There's no place like home - Stephanie Connolly 2010
We may be a small country, but we're a great one, too  . . . We’re the country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Harry Potter. David Beckham's right foot. David Beckham's left foot . . .’ - Love Actually 2003

  Happy St George’s Day everyone :-)

Tis a beautiful day in Steph’s world. The sky, a cloud-less powder blue blanket, the sun bright and strong.  The garden alive with luscious greenery and baby buds awakening for the first time with spring.

The air smells fresh, clear, as though just one big gulp of oxygen would be enough to rejuvenate one entirely. The birds sing, the flag flaps in the breeze. And I can’t help but think, man I love it here.

There really is no place like home and this country, steeped in history, for which our ancestors fought and defended, will always be home to me.

Of course there is a lot that needs to be updated or changed entirely. (Not much we can do about the weather though, eh?! Lol)

Yet today, in order to demonstrate my immense pride and adoration for this tiny little land with big, big influences I’m going to be putting politics aside and focusing on all things positive. <3

So allow me to present you with this, my very own A-Z on all things to love about ENGLAND :-)

A-
*Accents. From the toffee-nosed, stiff-upper-lip, ‘BBC broadcaster’s’ voice to the sing-song Geordie accent. The ‘Combine Harvester’ country-bump-kin to the ‘Calm, down, calm down’ Liverpudlian sound. I love them all!


B–
*Bowler hats
*British Bull Dog
*Bacon (none quite as tasty as the English piggy) -
*The British Army. (I know, I know, 'British' not 'English' but I’m also highly proud of our United Kingdom and the Army definitely deserves to be here.) - Thoughts of our Army, past and present hero’s, those that lay their lives down everyday. As I said, I’m leaving the politics to the politicians (after all they need something, other than shopping, to do!) - but as an English citizen I am immensely proud of our Army.


C–
*Cream Tea’s. Mmmmmmm. ‘nuff said.
*Cadbury’s Chocolate. Just try to find better. I dare you.


D-
*Dandelions. Legend amongst the kids at school had it that these, cheerful weeds would make you wet the bed if picked. Yet when the season changed and the dandelion became the bearer of hundreds of fluffy white seedlings, they became quite magical. (We used to pick them, blow the seedlings, count how many breaths it took to clear the entire flower and then conclude that that number determined the time. (i.e—three breaths and it would be 3 o’clock, of course! Lol) ) - I don’t think Dandelions are exclusive to Britain, but nevertheless the countryside wouldn’t be the same without them.
*Dogs. We are a nation of dog lovers. Our four legged friends certainly are mans best friend. And to Englishmen they are so much more than that.

 
E-
*The English Rose. Pretty as a picture, our national flower is a symbol of love, pride and immense beauty.
*Eggs. I know, you can get them anywhere. But English eggs are always the yummiest.


F-
*Football. A universal language, perhaps, but nobody understands it better than the English. We invented it afterall.
*Fish and Chips and Mushy Peas. Perhaps it was our French friends that invented the concept, but we added the salt and vinegar and newspaper too :-)


G-
*Galaxy Minstrels.


H-
*History and Heritage.—We are steeped in history, with England being the birth place of so many influential characters, so many courageous battles, hero’s and villains. The English history is captivating and makes us the envy of the rest of the world.


I-
*Ice Cream Vans. The 99, the screwball, the knicker-bocker glory. (Nope, not what you think. Don’t be smutty.) delicious ice creams sold by smiley Italian men in brightly-coloured vans. Just the sound of the tinkering musical tune would be enough to have my little heart fluttering with excitement as a child. And now I watch my own daughter as she hears the approaching van of deliciousness. Magic.

J-
*Jelly with the aforementioned ice cream. (Jelly, jelly. By the way. Not ‘Jam’ jelly lol)


K-
*Kites. Oh heck, couldn’t think of one for ‘K’ - Kites will do :-)


L-
*Language. The English dictionary is absolutely legendary. We have the best language. What do Americans, Australians, New Zealands, Welsh, Irish, and countless others have in common?? They all speak, ENGLISH :-D


M-
*Manners :-) When it comes to common courtesy, etiquette and good manners, we have it down ;-) Oh yes, we know our P’s from our Q’s. Where else in the entire world would you find yourself arriving at a roundabout, in the same split-second as four other drivers, unsure as to who has the right of way and therefore, sitting patiently, smiling politely, and gesturing ‘you go first,’ ‘No, no, you go first.’ ‘No, you, I insist!’ lol
 *The Monarchy. Love ‘em, or loathe ‘em, there’s no arguing that we have one of the most amazing, influential, famous and legendary Royal Families of all time. 
 *Marmite.


N-
*November. (I’m kinda clutching at straws here, on ‘N’ - so go with me on this one?) - Bonfire night. Guy Fawkes.—He was English. :-)

O-
*(Having spent at least 5 entire minutes contemplating a love for the letter ‘O’ I have admitted defeat. Cos English people don’t have to win all the time. (Unless you’re my husband, he’s an exception.)

P-
*Pickled Onions. Yummy!
*Pie, Mash & Liquor. (Though I reckon that’s a London thing! Haha!)
*The Pub. The proper pub that is. The home-from-home. ;-) Where English spend at least 70% of the entire Summer months. And winter too come to think of it.

Q-
*Queues. We bloody love ‘em. :-/ lol
*The Queen :-D

R-
*Rugby. Although perhaps I am the worst person to explain why. Muscly men and mud. Though I’m sure there’s much more to admire about the sport that we play so well. ;-)
*The rain. Because, erm, we know it oh-so well.
*Route Master Buses.


S-
*Sunshine!! Tis appreciated more so in this country than anywhere else! Lol
*Surf in Cornwall (in the Rain) lol
*Shepherds Pie. With Bisto Gravy. Ahhhh Bisto . . .
*Sarcasm. We have it down to perfection.

T–
*Team Spirit. We call it the ‘Dunkirk spirit'. Generally speaking we are a nation that looks after our neighbours. Especially in a tragedy, we (make tea) support and comfort one another like no other nation.

U-
*Umbrella’s—the must-have accessory for the Englishman (and woman, and child . . . )

V-
*Victory. Our grandparents, great-grandparents and ancestors, who fought so bravely for us and our Country.


W-
*The Weather. Hahahahaha (Told you we were good at sarcasm!)
*The World Cup. It’s coming home ;-)
* Our Wildlife. All creatures great and small. From the teeny-tiny dormouse, to the prickly hedgehog, the fox, the badger, the hare. England is home to some truly beautiful species.
* William Shakespeare. Who so was.

X-
* x x x  - Kisses. English boys are the best kissers. I know this as I have conducted extensive research. Somebody had to do it.

Y–
*The Yorkshire Dales—(Oh and Yorkshire puddings, Yorkshire tea, the Yorkshire accent.—Ha, should have done one of these on Yorkshire alone!)

Z-
Zed. I know it doesn’t rhyme with ‘G’ ‘P’ or ‘V’ and therefore doesn’t sound that great in the ‘Alphabet song’ we were taught as kids, bit it is a fabulous word all the same.

So there you have it. Thank you everyone, for your suggestions. I hope I didn’t miss anything out. And I also hope that my friends from all across the globe won’t be offended, (English girls don’t like to offend—well, this one certainly doesn’t) - but on a serious note, we live in a country that is so influenced by ‘political correctness’ and it’s got to the point where English people are afraid to fly their flags for fear of being deemed racist, offensive or otherwise rude. Yet we are the first nation to join in (and indeed accommodate) the celebrations for our friends from other nations.

I’m young, but I’m aware of the sacrifices that my ancestors made to secure this country, our beliefs and everything that we stand for. And I am so proud to call this place home. So I’m flying my flag high. Not to be controversial, but to show gratitude to those citizens before me and to demonstrate my patriotism.

And now a trip to the pub, to drink gallons of beer is of course required on a day as fine as this, and I won’t be letting anyone down :-) But before I head out, dressed from head to red-high-heeled toes in the colours of our flag I’d like to wish you once again a very happy St Georges Day. Wherever you are :-)

Steph x x x 

*Some of the above facts may not be entirely accurate. But hey, I have lots of celebrating to do, so might not have used as much time researching as I could have :-/ lol

- Feel free to add your own loves below x x x

 

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‘I find the Englishman to be him of all men who stands firmest in his shoes.’ - Ralph Waldo Emerson—1860



With a few minor exceptions, (my pronunciation of certain words, and tendency to slip into an Australian accent from time to time for example,) I am, without a doubt, your perfect representation of a typical English Gal.



I drink Tea in a crisis, (though I suspect Vodka would probably be more suitable.) I use irony, tongue-in-cheek and sarcasm to avoid having to directly say what I truly mean and I was born with every lyric in every Madness song already etched in my mind.



But I think the real tell-tale sign of my heart and soul belonging to Blighty is my irrational, and slightly odd obsession with the weather.



You see we English cannot conduct a conversation without a mention, no matter how brief, of the current climate conditions. It’s the Law in England.



Perhaps it’s because the weather here, in our part of the world, is one of the few elements in our lives that is ever-changing and so unpredictable? I don’t know. And right now I haven’t time to analyse. Because currently, at this very moment, as I type furiously, (my nails, irrelevantly, due a manicure,) I find myself in the midst of what can only be described as, a (‘Dun, Dun, Duuuurrrrrnnn’) MET OFFICE EMERGENCY.



There I was, stretched out on the couch, cosy and warm, my toes in my slipper-boots, my head on Jay’s lap when suddenly, my world was turned upside down by a news flash on the telly. I shot up in an instant, fearing the worst, and the upside-down-ness was corrected just in time for the announcement to be made.



A very important-looking lady, in very expensive lipstick, told us, in a very official tone that and I quote, ‘a warning has been issued.’



Snow is coming.



For some it has already arrived, though for us, here in the East Midlands, only a light, fluffy blanket of the white-stuff can be seen. Yet that is all set to change, according to the Weather Man. Yup. Over-night our pad is expected to be transported to the Antarctic.



Up to 40 cms of snow could greet us in the morning, if the weather reports are precise. I cannot claim to be fully aware of exactly how much 40 cms is, of course, as I was taught the metrics system by a boy, but it does sound a lot, quite impressive really, if it wasn’t such a crisis.



‘The trouble with the UK is that we’re never prepared for anything,’ we exclaim to one another, ‘When it’s hot we fall to pieces, when it’s freezing we fall to pieces.’ We tut. ‘The only country to be at a stand-still just because of the weather!’ We shake our heads, united in our disbelief that the Government have yet to find a solution to sufficiently deal with the British Weather. But it’s true. We run outta grit for our roads. Our trains derail, lorries crash, airports close. And all because fluffy, pretty cold stuff has fallen from the sky. And you’d think by now we’d figure out how to handle it.



I can’t really talk though. Cos I’m not prepared either. I was supposed to go food shopping tonight. Other than a couple of selection boxes and some dry-roasted peanuts left over from Crimbo, our kitchen cupboards are in a bit of a sorry state at the mo. Of course had I known it was coming, the snow, I would have hot-footed it to town this evening to stock up on tinned goods and toilet roll, torches and sleeping bags, candles and gas canisters and er, all the other stuff you need when a Warning is Issued.



Alas by the time I got wind of the Issued Warning it was too late. All the shops were shut. Only the 24hour Tesco’s in Wellingborough is open at this time of night and Jay won’t let me drive there was we have a headlight that’s out on our car. (Of course the Police will have more important issues to contend with, since we are in the midst of a MET OFFICE EMERGENCY, yet I cannot be bothered to argue with him.) He says we can go to the shop and stock up in the morning, of course he’s wrong. When the snow comes we won’t be able to get out of our drive, let alone into town.  Silly Man. I’ve made a mental note, to reserve this rare error of judgement for use in all future arguments between my husband and I ;-)



We could be snowed in here for weeks. Who knows? I’m wondering if I was a little too hasty in switching off the news in order to check the house for supplies now. But the weather man had lost my attention. He started going on about the ‘science behind the snow-fall’ and by that point I had already been whipped into a dramatic frenzy and was far too concerned with the survival kit to attempt to understand the scientific stuff. If I’d been a little more attentive the weatherman might have offered an estimation on how long this snow crisis might last?



Still must be very grateful for abundance of tea-bags and sugar in the pots at the very least. Lol ;-)



No business like snow business ;-)



Enjoy and take care!



Steph x x x
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Punctuality has never really been my thing. And it is with shame that I make that statement. Alas even with the greatest of intentions and all the will in the world I never have been able to perfect my time-keeping skills. Tis a flaw that gets me into trouble time and time again. No pun intended ;-)

I therefore have refrained from sending a very stroppy email to the North Pole today, for I fear it is my tardiness that is to blame for the absence of one of the pressies on my list to Saint Nick.

Perhaps if I’d returned my list sooner he might have had time to make the necessary negotiations with the Weather Man. To ensure that the snow did not fall upon our little village last night as I’d specifically requested. Alas I guess once again I was too late.  

I know I did state that I didn’t want a white ‘Christmas’. And I am also aware that ‘Christmas’ isn’t actually until next week. Yet I assume that Father C knew what I meant, he is magical after-all, and he should know that as a woman I am fully within my rights to say one thing and mean another.

Ah well, I have been a very good girl this year, so hopefully all the other stuff on my list will appear :-)

Generally speaking 6:30am and I do not meet very often. Unless I am still awake from the night before, or am going on holiday or something. Well last night I went to bed at a reasonable hour and did not have plans for holidaying today, so you can imagine my surprise when I found myself wide awake and face-to-face with the digits ‘6:30’am flashing furiously on my phone.

‘It’s snowed!’ Jay whispered. ’Come and see!’

And as though I might have doubted him had I not witnessed for myself, my excited husband led me by the hand, down the hall and into the living room where we stood surveying the snow-covered, bright white street.

Michael McIntyre (my fave comedian of all time,) makes a little joke in one of his stand-up gigs that a man should never ever wake his wife on her day off unless it has snowed or a celebrity has died. And Jay seems to take this rule very seriously indeed. He never normally wakes me when I’m due a lay-in. This morning though I’m so glad he did. Because it was absolutely beautiful.

Together we padded through the house hand in hand, viewing the picture-postcard scenes from every possible angle of the comfort of our warm house. We checked the drive. Beautiful. We gasped at the garden. Even more beautiful. We tiptoed into Lori’s bedroom for a glimpse of the front garden. Again very beautiful.

And eventually, once we’d decided that yes, the snow had made everything indeed beautiful we climbed back into bed and whispered excitedly until we’d nodded back off to sleep.

Of course snow is all well and good when one has nowhere in particular to be. So today Santa, the Weather Man, Mother Nature and Climate Change can all be forgiven for granting us with a winter wonderland in Wymington, yet I’m slightly nervous that should the snow continue to fall my rellies might be a tad disappointed when they tear open the wrapping paper I have already purchased and find a pressie of Sweet F.A inside.

Because *Shock, horror* I haven’t yet finished my Christmas Shopping. And if the snow continues all the shops will shut, I won’t be able to drive (I can barely drive in fine weather, let alone snow) and the presents I intend on buying next week will remain on the shelves til next year.

Now I’m thinking I should have added ‘punctuality’ and ‘better organisational skills’ to my Christmas list this year, cos right now both are looking more useful than the sable. :-/

Steph x
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Santa Baby, 

Just slip a sable, (whatever that might be) under the tree, for me. 

I’ve been an awfully good girl. Especially if you ignore the incident that took place a few days ago.

I didn’t mean to throw my middle finger in the air. And I have no idea how that terribly offensive word flew out of my mouth at such volume. Honestly I never normally use such language. Least of all in public. But you see it was raining, and I was drenched. And that car plunged directly into a puddle of about 10 inches in depth causing an almighty tidal wave to come crashing down on me in my new coat and well . . . He sort of deserved what I accidentally called him. 

I know by now you must have made your list and checked it twice so you probably already know who’s naughty and nice. Hopefully the fact that I was punished for the aforementioned outburst, by a major dose of embarrassment as I had to stand in the playground amongst the Mums that had witnessed the scene and now are probably under the impression that I am a tourettes sufferer or something, will mean that the episode of naughtiness is well and truly behind us and you can put me back on the nice list?

 

I promise not to let it happen again. Just this afternoon, for example, I broke the heel on my beautiful boots whilst tottering around Asda and I barely muttered the ‘f’ word under my breath. So there’s a start?!

The thing is Santa Baby, I know bad language is probably frowned upon by you and your Elves, but it can be very therapeutic. And sometimes quite necessary. So I sincerely hope you still come down the Chimney to bring me my presents this year.

So anyway, back to my list. As well as the sable, might I also have a higher metabolism this year too? I’ve heard they are quite necessary for those of us who wish to have the body of a supermodel whilst still indulging in the yummy foods that are compulsory to scoff over the Christmas period? I will of course start my diet on New Years Day, (as I do every year) and will of course be more dedicated this year than any other, (as I am every year) - it’s just that the metabolism might help for the next few weeks. (I fully intend on testing the mince pies for you, you see, before we leave them out on Crimbo Eve.)

Santa Baby . . . I know everyone else is dreaming of a white Christmas, but I’d appreciate it if you could save the snow for the North Pole, cause it’s kinda cold enough this year. Numb fingers and faces all aglow may sound idyllic in carols, but they’re rather unattractive in real life. If my face really must be all aglowing could you ensure it is doing so with Benefit High Beam and Saint Tropez fake tan instead? Thank you. :-)

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a phone. I’ve spilt Diet Coke all over my one and no amount of resuscitating, disassembling and drying in the airing cupboard will bring it back to life this time. I promise in the future to not put opened bottles in my handbag.

Also, Santa Baby, I know it’s not very politically correct these days, but I wondered if you might send me a servant? Or a slave? I’m not fussy :-) It’s just that I don’t want to waste valuable time doing washing and cleaning and bed-making and stuff.  I don’t mind if my slave is human or robotic or anything really, however this request is of utmost importance so please sprinkle a little extra speed dust, (not drugs, of course, but the stuff you use for your sleigh) in order to deliver this present without delay :-)

Now I’d like you to take a moment to think, if you would, of all the fun I’ve missed. Think of all the fella’s that I haven’t kissed . . . ? Next year I could be just as good if you check out my Christmas list?

So Santa Baby, that’s my list and really it’s not a lot. I’ve been an angel all year, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney on the 24th.

Love Steph x x x

 
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